THE CADETS' INSPIRED PLAY HAS BOWLED OVER EVERYBODY BUT THE BOWLS BOBBY BOWDEN'S DAN-DY CONNECTION

Nobody ever complained that Army couldn't dress up a footballgame. Where else does a decorated veteran, so moved by theunbeaten start of his alma mater, drop by a midweek practice andbequeath his Congressional Medal of Honor to the entire team?Where else does a national hero commanding a reported $60,000 apop on the rubber-chicken circuit stop in the afternoon before agame to deliver a little fire and brimstone, pro bono?

Yes, the inspirational trappings have always come easy to Army.Producing football games to match has proved more taxing. Eightyears have passed since the Cadets last appeared in a bowl, andonly a few years have gone by since the cognoscenti weredebating whether Army--and Navy, too--belonged in Division I-A.But such talk is a remote memory these days. Navy is arespectable 6-2 this season, and last Saturday, Army defeatedAir Force 23-7 to improve its record to 9-0. "I would hopepeople will respect us now," said inside linebacker Ben Kotwicaafter the game. "Though I'm not sure everyone will."

Kotwica was not being a killjoy. He was merely echoing thekeynote that he and his teammates have sounded all season.Despite being only one of five unbeaten teams in Division I-A,the Cadets have been regularly flayed for their downy-softschedule, which has included two I-AA teams, Yale and Lafayette,and just three opponents with winning records. Only after thewin over the Falcons, who three weeks earlier had defeated NotreDame in South Bend, did the pollsters finally deem Army fit fora Top 25 ranking; the Cadets are now No. 22. But they couldfinish the regular season undefeated--games against Syracuse andNavy remain--and still be denied a bid to a major bowl.

If the thought of such slights were not enough to stoke Army'sfire, two events leading to last Saturday's game were certain tokeep the embers smoldering. Last Thursday, Vietnam war hero Paul(Buddy) Bucha, West Point '65, delivered a five-minute speech tothe team. In 1967 Bucha, then a second lieutenant in the 101stAirborne Division, received the Congressional Medal of Honorafter, among other acts of bravery, crawling through a hail ofgunfire to destroy a bunker with a grenade. "When you have yourbacks against the wall, I want you to look at this," he told theCadets. He then pulled from his pocket the medal, handed it tocoach Bob Sutton and asked that Sutton act as its caretakeruntil the end of the season.

The following afternoon Norman Schwarzkopf, the retired DesertStorm general and now a banquet-circuit favorite, gave the teama 15-minute pep talk filled with gulf war analogies. "You'refighting a war," he said. "You're here to win, and nothing elseis acceptable."

For the Cadets, Schwarzkopf's words were especially rousing. "Inthe past we had these generals, these big politicians, come inand say, 'Hey, as long as you represent the Army and don't quit,it's O.K.,'" tight end Ron Leshinski said after Saturday's game."Essentially they were saying it's O.K. if you lose. And that'sbull. Finally, we had somebody say, 'Go out there and kick theirasses.' After listening to the general, the team wanted to playright there and then."

Emotion can carry a team only so far. The Cadets owe most oftheir success to impeccable execution on the field. Theirwishbone attack has produced a nation-leading 353.8 rushingyards per game, even after a relatively modest 260 against AirForce, with only 11 turnovers. Few teams are more effective atphysically wearing down the opposition. Indeed, Army's offensetakes an almost sadistic pleasure in grinding out four or fiveyards per play. "Don't get me wrong," says quarterback RonnieMcAda. "I'd love to see more 60-yard plays. But those four- andfive-yarders add up. You should see the look in the eyes of someof these defenses by late in the third quarter."

But then the Cadets' efficiency at running the wishbone comes aslittle surprise, given that service academies have deftly runthe offense for years. What's more surprising is Army'sdefensive success--or, more specifically, its success whileusing a system that, because it relies on speed, doesn't seemwell suited to the Cadets. During the 1993 season Sutton wasalarmed at the ease with which opposing offenses were moving theball downfield, so he decided to change to a more aggressive,attacking scheme. In the spring of 1994 he and his defensivestaff visited Arizona to learn the Wildcats' double-eagle flex,or Desert Swarm defense, which Arizona had employed to limitopponents to 47.6 rushing yards per game in 1992 and '93. TheCadets recruited swifter athletes and have used the double-eagleflex with great effectiveness, surrendering 604 yards rushingall season. "I wouldn't want to play against our defense,"fullback Joe Hewitt said after the win over the Falcons. "Lookat the way it shut their quarterback down today."

To say the Cadets' defense merely shut down Air Force seniorquarterback Beau Morgan is an understatement. Entering the game,Morgan, who this weekend will probably become the first playerto both pass and run for 1,000 yards in consecutive years, wasthe nation's fourth-leading rusher, with 1,185 yards. The Cadetsheld him to six yards on the ground and held the entire AirForce offense, which entered the game as the nation's No. 2rushing team (353.9 yards per game), to just 69.

But then Army had been anything but intimidated by the prospectof facing the Falcons and their hotshot quarterback. "Who'sMorgan?" queried Hewitt before the game. It was the type ofsubtle dissing that Air Force, winner of seven straight againstthe Cadets before Saturday, has traditionally directed towardArmy. But forgive Hewitt his irreverence. Last year, his mother,Shirley, retired from her position as a medical administrator inthe Air Force. "It was a pretty bitter experience for her," saysJoe. "She felt she was treated terribly by some people sheworked for." Much of that bitterness apparently lingers. OnFriday night Shirley fed her son a bit of Schwarzkopfianinvective. "She basically told me to go out there and knock thecrap out of somebody," recalls Joe. "And then stand over the guyand tell him, 'This one was from my mom.'"

The 6'1", 197-pound anvil of a fullback did indeed knock thestuffing out of numerous Falcons defenders, rushing for acareer-high 161 yards on 29 carries. Afterward, though, hesheepishly confessed that he had failed to deliver Mom'smessage. "Awww, that's not really my style, sir," Hewitt said."I think the message we sent to them with our play was loudenough."

LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

In Florida State's 44-7 win over Wake Forest, the Seminoles' DanKendra became the first freshman in 11 years to start atquarterback for coach Bobby Bowden. "He comes in there with asmuch confidence as anybody," says tackle Todd Fordham of Kendra,who completed 20 of 39 passes for 281 yards and three touchdownsin place of Thad Busby, who was out with a hairline fracture ofhis left wrist. "It's like he's a fifth-year starter."

For Bowden, the afternoon recalled a performance by anotherfreshman signal-caller 22 years ago when Bowden was the coach atWest Virginia. Desperate to end a four-game losing streak,Bowden put Kendra's father, also named Dan, into a game againstSyracuse. The elder Kendra promptly threw a 97-yard touchdownpass and led the Mountaineers to a 39-11 victory. Two weekslater, he rallied West Virginia to a 22-21 win over VirginiaTech. To this day Bowden believes those two performances savedhis job and perhaps his career. "I was getting hanged in effigyevery week," says Bowden. "I was a favorite for the rope." Thenext year, 1975, the senior Kendra led the Mountaineers to a 9-3record. The following year Florida State hired Bowden.

COLOR PHOTO: CHUCK SOLOMON Given the option, McAda (7) dished repeatedly to Hewitt (right), who gained 161 yards. [Ronnie McAda handing football to Joe Hewitt in game]COLOR PHOTO: CHUCK SOLOMON C.W. Estes (72) and Army turned Morgan every which way but loose, holding him to six yards rushing. [C.W. Estes tackling Beau Morgan]

Before he became the premier postseason performer of his generation, the Patriots icon was a middling college quarterback who invited skepticism, even scorn, from fans and his coaches. That was all—and that was everything